


Special Needs

by orphan_account



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: D/s, Handcuffs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-04
Updated: 2012-05-04
Packaged: 2017-11-04 19:47:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/397549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Frank doesn’t miss Gerard’s hair, Gerard’s lips, Gerard’s cock; Gerard can do nothing about it. He's just got to wait.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Special Needs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maybegasoline](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maybegasoline/gifts).



Gerard’s day has two parts; before the show and after the show. 

Before the show, either Frank comes up to him and gives him instructions, or he doesn’t. The after-the-show part is actually all about what had happened during the before-the-show part. It’s all about it. Whether Frank wants to play or whether he doesn’t. It’s never up to Gerard. If Frank doesn’t miss Gerard’s hair, Gerard’s lips, Gerard’s cock; Gerard can do nothing about it. He's just got to wait.

When Frank comes up to him after weeks of nothing, Gerard is standing in a hall, leaning against the wall and smoking a cigarette. He shivers when Frank approaches him and he has to bite down on his lip so he wouldn’t blurt out something stupid. 

“There’s a small room at the end of this hall,” Frank announces sternly, not even an inch of his face moving or showing any emotion. “Wait for me there. Right after the show. You know what happens if you’re not there.”

Gerard nods and whispers, “Yes, sir,” because this is what the situation calls for. 

“Good,” Frank smirks and before he leaves again, he reaches up with his hand and brushes his fingers slightly over Gerard’s left eyebrow and then down his cheek to his jawline. Frank’s smirk is already making Gerard hard, and he really wants to whine when Frank pulls away and leaves him standing there. He has to wait. That’s the game, those are the rules. 

Of course, they don’t play this game all the time. Usually, Frank is simply Frank to Gerard and that’s it. Gerard is Gerard to Frank. They’re friends and Gerard would even consider their friendship to be fucking amazing. Frank just kind of… persuaded him that ‘friends with benefits’ is a real thing, and even though it translates to ‘friends who are into kinky stuff with benefits’ in their case, it’s basically still the same. Out of the bedroom – or out of any room Frank picks for them – they’re just friends. There’s no tension hovering above them and Gerard never feels the need to call Frank ‘sir’ – Frank doesn’t even want that. At first, it was hard to keep the game and their real life apart, but they had learnt and they’re okay now. They know what to say and Gerard knows what to do to be considered a good boy in Frank’s eyes. And he’s happy like this. 

He still hooks up with girls, and he knows Frank’s the same. What they’ve got, that’s just for them; they would never look for another partner. It’s like they’re exceptions to each other.

However, Gerard is on fire the whole show that night. He wants to jump out of his skin, because it feels like every single pore on his body wants to get attached to Frank’s skin and breathe it in. He screams and he shrieks and he feels like water that’s just about to boil. He’s ready to explode. He spreads his legs for the girls hungry for some kind of affection and he touches himself, wondering what it will cost him after the show. If there will be a punishment for the way he moans and looks at the people in the crowd. Oh, he’s thrilled to find out.

The show is over within hour and a half and though Gerard’s body covered in sweat and he feels momentarily exhausted, it wasn’t enough. He can feel the growing bulge in his pants and on his way to that dirty room Frank told him to wait in, he sub-consciously speeds up. He needs to be there as soon as possible.

The room is rather small and rather dirty, as Gerard observes when he comes in and closes the door behind him. He’s pretty sure it used to be some kind of storage room for old brooms and other shit, but it’s empty now. It makes him wonder if Frank didn’t throw all of that stuff away just so they would have some space for themselves. Maybe, Frank is as impatient as Gerard – and this simple thought makes Gerard shudder. 

He leans against the wall and closes his eyes, swallowing. Soon enough, he finds out what his punishment is – Frank’s late. He’s prolonging Gerard’s waiting, knowing how difficult and painful it is for him to just stand there dutifully. And Gerard knows he shouldn’t, because Frank never gave him this permission, but he just has to fantasize. It’s so easy to bang his head against the wall as well and get lost in his thoughts. So lost that he almost doesn’t notice when the door creeps open and Frank slips in, facing Gerard right away. 

Gerard’s silent – no one asked him to speak. And Frank’s staring. Gerard can see lust and want in his eyes, like he just wants to smash his lips against Gerard’s and rip his clothes off; take him right here and right now roughly, without much thought, rubbing their sweaty bodies together. Gerard’s breath quickens before he can even realize it’s about to happen. 

“Are we going to stand here all night?” Frank growls and places his palm on Gerard’s shoulder, squeezing it. “On your knees, slut,” he commands and pushes Gerard down.

It’s not necessary, not really; Gerard goes willingly the moment Frank finishes his sentence. He drops to his knees, hitting them hard on the dirty floor. He faces Frank’s crotch and the obvious hard-on in his pants. His arms jerk on their own, because he wants to grip the button on Frank’s pants so bad and open it right about now, but he knows he can’t. 

Frank circles him twice and stops behind Gerard’s back eventually. “Your shirt. Off.” Gerard obeys immediately, ignoring the goose bumps that rise up on his arms. A strange, ringing sound echoes the room and Gerard hisses quietly when cold metal meets his wrist, then also the other and then it clicks. Gerard breathes out and closes his eyes for a brief moment. “For touching yourself on stage tonight,” Frank explains quietly as he traces his fingers along the lines of the handcuffs. 

“I’m sorry, sir,” Gerard whispers and curls his fingers into fists, feeling the metal dig into his skin. He can already see the crimson red that will cover his wrists later that night, and he can’t wait to rub them, trying to bring back at least a spark of pain. They haven’t played with handcuffs in months. It’s strange to feel that pull; to acknowledge that he can’t move his hands at all, reach out, touch Frank. His pulse quickens as he gets accustomed to the new part of him, feeling Frank’s fingers tangle in his hair.

“You’re not,” Frank argues and Gerard bites his lower lip. Frank moves and stops in front of Gerard, unzipping his pants and unbuttoning them. “You’re not, because you’re a fucking whore.”

Gerard’s too busy staring at Frank’s hands, to be honest. He marvels at his tattooed fingers, his nails, even at the shape of his thumb. The thumb Frank presses hardly against the strings on his guitar; the thumb he uses to press against Gerard’s neck, catching his pulse. Gerard closes his eyes and involuntarily moans when Frank slaps him, leaving a slightly red mark on his cheek. A wave of passion and pleasure rushes through him, concentrating in his crotch. His arms jerk again and the handcuffs do their job, holding Gerard back and squeezing him mercilessly. 

He rests his unhurt cheek on his shoulder for a second, then looks up and tries to flutter his eyelashes in a seductive way, knowing it will piss Frank off even more. 

“Can I suck you off, please?” he begs and kneels closer, rubbing his slapped cheek against Frank’s thigh. Frank tugs at Gerard’s hair roughly, pulling him away from the touch. “Please, sir?” Gerard whines again, no matter how much the pull of his hair hurts. His eyes water a bit. 

“You don’t deserve it,” Frank mumbles angrily, but rolls his pants down anyway. Gerard’s surprised to see that he’s wearing no underwear. He licks his lips and his gaze drops down; oh god, how much he wants to free his hands and caress Frank’s skin, oh, how much he wants to do that! “Open your mouth.”

Gerard does as he’s told within seconds. He gags when Frank pushes his dick all the way inside, hitting the back of Gerard’s throat. He actually feels like throwing up for a split second, but he squeezes his eyes and holds his breath; he knows that feeling will pass. This is the time where he’d do anything for Frank. He would take everything, and he would never, _ever_ use their safe-word. Frank holds him there, pressing the back of Gerard’s head forcefully. Gerard can feel his saliva gathering in the corner of his mouth when Frank finally pulls out. 

Just to thrust back inside.

“You better take that,” Frank growls, even though his breathing is shallow and unsteady. He speeds up, thrusting in and out of Gerard’s mouth.

And Gerard loves feeling like this. The saliva is rolling down his chin now, mixed with Frank’s pre-come. He can feel his lips getting swollen, tired; his jaw hurts, but he would never pull away. It feels like the handcuffs are cutting his skin open, even though it’s not possible; it just feels like it. Gerard wants to press his body against Frank’s, melt into him, but all he can do is look up at him with his watery eyes when Frank asks him to. He moans from now and then, guessing Frank likes it only from how it makes his thrusts harder. 

After a few moments, Frank pulls out and holds Gerard’s head a few inches from his crotch, holding him by his hair again. “You love that, don’t you, slut?” he groans and another hard slap falls on Gerard’s cheek – it’s the same as before. 

Gerard nods quickly, “Yes, sir. Please, I want more of your cock.”

“Yeah? You want more?” Frank raises an eyebrow at Gerard and pushes him closer. He squeezes his dick with his free hand and presses its tip against Gerard’s pursed lips. 

Before Frank can start slapping him, Gerard moans and murmurs another ‘Please, sir’ and opens his mouth again.

This time, Frank just pushes his hardened member into Gerard’s mouth and pulls his hands away, mumbling, “Suck it, slut.”

And Gerard does. He hollows his cheek immediately so hard that it hurts and whenever Frank’s thrusts get too messy and his dick somehow slips out of Gerard’s needy, dirty mouth, he does everything to get it back in. He gasps and moans and licks and Frank’s moans are a melody he truly wants to hear. He squeezes his fingers so much that his knuckles turn white and he jerks his elbows every now and then, because the need to touch his master is overwhelming. 

Frank eventually pulls out and gets hold of Gerard’s hair again, making him throw his head back. 

“Please,” Gerard whispers in a raspy voice and blinks a few times, trying not to stare at Frank’s hand moving quickly on his dick. 

“What do you want, bitch?” Frank commands and tugs at Gerard’s hair even more, his thrusts furious. That’s how it works with them; either Gerard asks for what they both want or Frank does it on his own and adds a slap as a simple punishment. And as much as Gerard wants another slap, whatever place Frank would choose to hit, he wants to answer. He wants to be the puppet in Frank’s tattooed hands.

“Would love your cum on my face, sir,” Gerard answers, trying to prevent his voice from shaking. “Please, sir, want your cum.”

“You do, don’t you?” Frank breathes out and Gerard sees his eyes roll back as he comes, indeed, all over Gerard’s face. He closes his eyes, keeping his lips slightly apart, and when it’s over, he licks them and tastes Frank on his tongue. Oh, how he appreciates that taste, how much he wants it!

Everything happens a bit quickly after that. Gerard’s hands are free all of a sudden and there’s Frank’s voice in his ear, telling him to touch himself and come for him, just like he wanted to do it on stage that night. Gerard’s wrists hurt unpleasantly, but he still pries his fly open and squeezes his cock roughly, feeling Frank’s fingers on his face.

He doesn’t realize Frank had been smearing his own cum across Gerard’s cheeks before he thrusts two of his fingers into Gerard’s mouth, almost as if his dick wasn’t enough. Gerard gags again, because Frank’s fingers seem to go deeper than his member could, but he doesn’t complain. He speeds up his pace, enjoying the way Frank tugs at his hair and fucks his mouth with his precise hands. Soon enough, maybe just seconds later, Gerard feels it coming and he moans around Frank’s fingers.

“Please, sir,” he tries to say, but it comes out muffled. Frank stops his fingers for a moment, but doesn’t pull them out, as if he didn’t want to make it easy for Gerard. “Please sir, can I come?” Gerard’s voice is desperate as he pronounces the sentence. He’s not even trying to hide it; his voice is high-pitched, prolonging the last syllables a bit. And Gerard has to try so hard so he wouldn’t bite Frank’s fingers, because he wants to do exactly that. His hips jerk involuntarily when he brushes his forefinger over the tip of his cock and he knows that if Frank doesn’t say ‘yes’ real soon, he might come without permission. 

“You fucking filthy whore,” Frank murmurs, but pulls his fingers out of Gerard’s mouth – finally? or unfortunately? – and nods. “Yes, you can come now.”

It’s like another signal; it’s everything Gerard needs to be set flying. His body jerks forward, collapsing against Frank’s calves helplessly as he comes all over his hand. A moan gets stuck in his throat, but he honestly doesn’t care, because he hasn’t felt this good in weeks. His mouth hurts, he feels like his jaw is actually broken, the skin on his wrists stings, his knees hurt as hell and he’s got fucking cum all over his face, but he’s contented. 

“Thank you, sir,” he breathes out and nuzzles his cheek against Frank’s pants again. This time, he doesn’t get slapped for it.

Frank kneels in front of him and pulls a paper napkin out of his pocket, caressing Gerard’s face with it, cleaning it. It’s gentle and soft and Frank utters, “You’ve been great, Gee,” and Gerard knows the game is over. 

And just as much as he loves their friendship, he kind of loves their game even more.


End file.
